


The Last Word

by iamfitzwilliamdarcy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family, Gen, Lots of drama, mention of suicide, mentions of corporal punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 04:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14301156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamfitzwilliamdarcy/pseuds/iamfitzwilliamdarcy
Summary: After his near expulsion at the end of his fifth year, Sirius returns home to his mother's new plans for him and his father as his last hope.Orion thinks it's high time Sirius grew up and began taking his responsibilities seriously; he's beginning to realize how much he's indulged his son.





	The Last Word

**Author's Note:**

> This fic brought to you by the Caps OT Intermission thx boys

The sudden silence echoing in his home caused Orion Black to glance up from his paper. The fight that had been raging downstairs for near an hour now had, it appeared, run its course. It had started, not for the first time, with a snide comment from Orion’s elder son meant to rile up his mother. Sirius has been in one of his darker moods all week, confining himself to his room or stalking around their home when he left, snapping at everyone. Orion’s wife had taken his bait, and they’d escalated from there.

One might have thought, Orion mused, that his near expulsion from school just several weeks ago might cow the boy into good behavior. One would have hoped too much.

Orion himself had left when his wife had brought up the inferior company Sirius chose to keep. Their voices tended to rise exponentially when that topic came up. He sat, listening for a moment, to see if something would reignite the battle. 

He heard footsteps rushing down the hall. Presumably, to Sirius’ room. Orion returned to his paper, ignoring the footsteps as they came closer. 

The footsteps did not pass, however, to the stairs, and Orion was thoroughly startled when the door burst open. He barely had a moment to take in his son’s wild-eyed appearance, the tears streaking down his face, before he said, “Papa, please!” and flung himself on the ground, around his father’s knees. 

“Sirius!” he said, alarmed. Sirius called him Papa only very rarely since he’d turned ten, and hadn’t seen the boy cry since even before then. “What is the matter?”

“You know,” Sirius said. “You know she wants to send me away!”

It was true Walburga had been scheming things for Sirius. It wasn’t the first time she’d raised the question of arranging him a marriage and transferring him to Beauxbatons, but it had received greater urgency in the past few weeks. Two days after they had heard news of Sirius’ near expulsion, she had come into his bedroom. That itself had told Orion he had better pay attention, as she rarely bothered him there these days. She had said, briskly, that it was high time they find a girl to settle Sirius down with and that she as contacting their French connections about transferring him out of Hogwarts and away from the influence of that Muggle-lover and their lollygagging Half-Blood friends. Orion had only nodded when she told him it was for the best, was what he needed. It made sense. 

“Please Papa,” Sirius said again, pleading. “Don’t let her, don’t let her send me away.”

“A marriage would still be several years off,” Orion assured him, letting a hand settle on his hair, far more patient than he had any right to be. “And your mother and I have discussed you transferring. After the incident this spring--,”

Sirius had only been home from school a month, and the incident with the Snape boy occurred just a few weeks prior to that. He had been punished severely as soon as he got home. It was the first time Orion had ever taken the cane in his study to either of his boys. Quiet Regulus rarely needed any discipline, and when he did a stern word and look was enough to shake him, and, as both Cygnus and Druella hinted snidely, they were too soft with Sirius. They frequently took away his voice, which he hated, and confined him to his room, which he hated, but the fact stood that most of his discipline consisted of arguing with him. 

He had rather thought that the caning would sate Walburga enough she would back away from her other plans. He had said as much to her, that perhaps they had punished Sirius enough. But Sirius had taken his beating stoicly, had never once even so much as whimpered, had only gripped the desk so tightly his knuckles turned white, and had been so defiantly cheerful, despite how clearly painful walking and sitting was for him that night, at dinner that Orion had a feeling his punishment had been ineffective, too little, too late. Walburga had given him a look across the table, and he had nodded his agreement. 

He had a suspicion that she had not meant to tell Sirius this very night, until she had certain aspects solidified and Orion’s knowledge, but that Sirius had managed to set her off enough to begin threatening.

“You can’t, you can’t,” Sirius pleaded. “Papa, please, my friends are there. You can’t take them away from me, they’re all I have.”

“You have us,” Orion said sharply. “You have this family. Above all else. Have we not given you everything you could want and need?”

“You don’t love me,” Sirius sobbed. It was pathetic, made more so by the fact that he meant it and wasn’t just the accusation of a petulant child who hadn’t gotten his way.

He and Walburga had indulged him far too much as a child, had let him grow wild and free for sixteen years, but now that he was close to coming of age, it was time to prune, only Orion and Walburga were finding the branches and vines were overgrown and thick. They should have started pruning years ago, and now the only way to clear the overgrowth was destroying it. 

“Really, now, Sirius,” Orion said impatiently. “It’s not as bad as all that. It’s time you started listening to your mother.”

“I’ll kill myself,” Sirius bit out, raising his face to meet Orion’s gaze. His expression was stormy, tears still flowing, but twisted with anger, as ugly as he’d ever seen his handsome son. It bothered him that he thought Sirius might actually do it. “I’ll kill myself before I let her--”

Orion slapped him hard across the face. Perhaps too hard—the boy’s face whipped to the side with the force of the blow. 

For a moment, there was just quiet, Orion breathing harshly, Sirius’ uneven, panting huffs of breath. Sirius didn’t turn his head back, but he did raise a hand to touch his cheek gingerly. 

Orion reached out and gripped his chin, not as hard as he might have, conscious of the swelling on Sirius’ right side and jerked his head back so he was looking up at his father. Orion saw, with some detachment, his lip was bleeding too. It had, however, shocked him out of his tears. 

“Pull yourself together,” he hissed. “You are above these hysterics and such begging is unbecoming if a Black. Spoiled, selfish boy, do you think you are the only one who has been asked to do something he doesn’t want? Do you think you are the only one who has ever been asked to do his duty? You are almost of age and it is high time you grow up.”

Sirius held his gaze, eyes wide and far more vulnerable than Orion had ever seen. The resemblance between him and Regulus was striking. He looked very young. 

Orion continued. “You will clean yourself up. You will apologize to your mother.”

“I will not,” Sirius said, and Orion’s grip on his tightened. 

He leaned forward. “Then you will stay in your room with no meals until such a time you are ready to treat her with respect.”

He waited for an answer, and when none came, he started again. “You are not to leave the house this summer. You will join me in managing the family affairs. We’ve neglected such education for you for far too long. You will meet whichever girl your mother and I decide for you. You will be kind to her and treat her respectfully. You will not run her or her family off. And when fall comes, you will go to the school we deem best for you. We have endured your disgraceful sorting and all the shame you have brought to this family long enough. You will go with no complaints, you will continue to achieve high marks, and you will have no contact with your—,” his lip sneered, “—friends.”

“I will not,” Sirius said quietly. The wide-eyed vulnerability disappeared into the haughty Black stare. Cool, disinterested. It should have infuriated Orion. It only made him feel very old. 

“You will,” Orion repeated, “or so help me, I will disown you.” 

It was mostly a bluff, but he could feel Sirius, arms still clutched around his knees, face trapped in his hand, still. He did not answer. 

“You will,” Orion said again, a brief flash of wonder at his own stupidity for inviting a bout of childish back and forth. His son always had to have to last word. 

Still, he did not answer. It worried Orion more than he cared to admit that there was no vivacious comeback and infuriated him that he refused his father the respect of an answer. Perhaps they’d finally tamed him, as they had wanted. Perhaps his silence was his last word. 

“Get up,” he said, releasing Sirius abruptly from his grasp. “You’re dismissed. Return to your room until you apologize.”

Sirius stared at him and then stood. He was tall, athletic, the most handsome boy Orion has ever seen, far outstripping even his own brother, even in his current state, too long hair in disarray, eyes puffy from crying, face red and tear streaked, his cheek swelling and lip still cut. He looked at Orion, almost searchingly, then left, shutting the door, uncharacteristically quiet, behind him. 

Orion would have to call upon Regulus and Kreacher to prevent either from sneaking Sirius food or healing cream for his face. But for just a moment, after Sirius had gone, he buried his face in his hands. 

Sirius did not reappear from his room the next day. By mid-afternoon, Orion had had quite enough. “Idiotic foolish ingrate,” he muttered to himself, climbing up the stairs. “Stubborn, ungrateful, impertinent child.”

He burst into the room, shouting his son’s name, without knocking, and froze. Sirius was not there. Orion looked around. It was far too neat for Sirius’ tastes, almost barren. A few clothes remained behind, a stack of last year’s textbooks. His broom was gone, his wand and trunk too. His window was still open, curtains fluttering in the summer breeze. 

Orion walked over to the sill. A note sat folded there. He shut the window, opened the piece of paper. 

Hastily scribbled on it, in his son’s sloppy scrawl, “I won’t. —S”

His last word, and that was it.


End file.
